


Evelyn

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:49:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: Princess Flora remembers a mortal artist who captured her on canvas like no one else has.





	Evelyn

**Author's Note:**

> I was lucky enough to see a Pre-Raphaelite show. Among the paintings was Evelyn de Morgan’s Flora. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Eventually this story came to me…it's a stunning painting. I recommend looking it up and looking at it. 
> 
> Neither Amber nor Flora belong to me. Nor does Evelyn de Morgan or any of her artwork. They simply have quite the impact on my imagination...

Seldom have I ever shown myself as I did with Evelyn. I let my hair loose and stood amidst the Italian flowers, relaxing as I only could on Shadow Earth. 

My brothers all thought me a fool for this. A pretty, vapid, hedonistic fool, incapable of playing the games of power they indulged in. 

My sisters thought me something far worse. A shallow pawn, incapable of reflection, incapable of pitting her wits against the boys and winning. 

On Shadow Earth, I could be someone I never could in Amber. Here I was a goddess and a muse, inspiring poet and artist alike. Here I breathed a little civilization into the warlike hearts beating around me. 

Here I mattered, whispering into the ear of the right people to create waves to bring positive change. Here people listened to me. 

Much as I loved the shadow dwellers here, no one had ever seen me the way Evelyn had. My Evelyn, who’d captured the best of me on canvas, immortalizing a perfection that neither Dworkin or Brand had ever conveyed on the cards. 

I’ve sometimes wondered if anyone can appreciate the beauty of a woman like another woman. 

I’ve had many a skilled lover, male and female, some quite accomplished. None of them looked at me quite the way she did, reflecting back back her vision beauty within shining eyes. One would think this vision was transitory but no. She created a unique icon of me in a painting which she’d shared with the world. 

Thanks to Evelyn, everyone who looked at Flora could see what she’d seen.

Perhaps this was why I’d had kept her alive by taking her name. A little of Evelyn de Morgan lived on in Mrs. Evelyn Flaumel, a part of my artist I refused to let go of.

She’ll never die or be forgotten. Not as long as I can whisper her name.


End file.
